She's dancing against strangers.

Pretending that she's in your arms.

She feels dirty,

As the man in blue runs his hands,

Over her exposed stomach.

She lets him.

For she feels inadequate.

High.

Wasted.

Stoned.

Sways to the beats.

Her silhouette disappearing in the crowd,

Yet stands out from the rest.

She's gotta be own her own.

Dancing the night away.

Going home with another.

Waking at four to run away.

To her place, her bath tub.

Where she's gonna lie

To herself until the night's young again.

Wearing your sweater.

If i were you,

I would never let her go.

Tonight, I run by the club again.

Like everyday.

Watch her let them take body shots.

Dance to the loud silence of our lives.

Take one step ahead towards her,

Then ten behind.

Like every long night of my life.

I'm you.

So, I dance with another too.

Like her.

Drowning in gin and pain.

Pretending that she's in my arms.

Run my hands over another,

Wishing it were her.

Every night.

I go home to an empty room,

Where sheets smell of her,

And two plates still sit on the table,

But none are ever used.

Since that day we broke,

crockery against the walls.

curl in and wish,

i had enough courage to beg.

on my knees.

till they bled.

for her to come back.

into my arms.

when i hear a tap against the window.

I see her.

drenched in rain.

reeking of tequila.

liner running off her eyes.

beautiful as she ever were.

if not more.